


The Last of the Elvhen

by 914321



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age - Various Authors, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Background Relationships, Book: Dragon Age - The Masked Empire, Canon-Typical Violence, Dragon age racism, Eluvians, Elves, Elvhen, Gen, M/M, Mysteries, Politics, Power Struggle, agent!Briala, companion!Michel de Chevin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-06 13:40:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5419184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/914321/pseuds/914321
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The leader of the Inquisition, Cylas Lavellan, attempts to work with a disgraced champion, Michel de Chevin, and Celene's former spymaster and lover, Briala. Together they uncover the secrets of the ELuvians and the forces that are tearing Thedas apart. </p><p>An au of Inquisition that integrates the characters of The Masked Empire into larger roles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Last of the Elvhen

**Author's Note:**

> I really adored Masked Empire so I was incredibly disappointed to find that very little of it had a large impact on Inquisition other than some cameos and minor background details. I was disappointed with a lot of things actually so I ended up making this au because 1) Michel would have been a great companion and 2) I love Briala so much and honestly felt like she and Solas would have a pretty great relationship dynamic. I also really love DA elves and before I knew it this whole story is now overrun with them. I have the whole story planned out from beginning to end so I'm pretty excited to try and write this out!! Hopefully I have enough DETERMINATION to follow it through.
> 
> There will be bits of Dorian/Inquisitor whenever I am able to squeeze it in. There are original characters but they only have minor roles in this story, this mainly focuses on my Inquisitor Cylas (I guess he counts as an oc though), Briala and Michel. I will update my tags as I go along because I can't...really remember what is of importance right now + I'll make sure to mention them before each chapter. Although this is essentially the events of Inquisition, I'll try not to repeat the same game events as much and may skip over them if I think it's essentially a retelling of the game. 
> 
> I'm not particularly great at writing especially long pieces of fiction so if you could give back feedback and suggestions on how to improve I'd be super glad!!
> 
> Please enjoy ^^;;

It had been ten days since Corypheus's attack on Haven.

Repairs have been progressing well in Skyhold; workers from all across southern Thedas have been arriving to the fortress, bringing with them tools and supplies. The sight of them helped improved morale; they did not only repair the crumbling walls but they would often thank the troops, exchanging news and stories from their villages. A simple comfort that was much appreciated.

Dozens of volunteers arrived by the day, eager to see the Inquisition and the fabled Herald leading them - a Dalish elf who performed a miracle when he sealed the breach in the sky and fought off an ancient magister. The Chantry hated him but the elves loved him. Now that he was strengthening his forces in Skyhold, everyone was waiting for his next move.

Wherever he may be.

"Josephine, have you seen the Inquisitor?"

The Antivan ambassador lifted her head up from her paperwork at the sound of Cullen's voice; the Commander was holding a report in his hand and he glanced around the room as if expecting to see the Inquisitor emerge from the shadows. It was a scene that they were both growing familiar with; where one of the advisors would be wandering around Skyhold with new reports in hand, looking up rooftops and in the libraries for the elf. The Inquisitor would eventually return of course but not before he had his fun.

She shook her head, "I am afraid I have not." Her fingers flew up to rub at her temples, unwittingly leaving a smear of ink across her brow, "Have you checked the tavern?"  
"I wouldn't be here if I didn't." He sighed wearily, "Maker's Breath, where could he be?" 

* * *

 

Not too far from Skyhold, a small hunting party was scouring the Frostback Mountains for deer led by none other than the Inquisitor himself.

Cylas Lavellan was kneeling down on the ground, examining the ground for tracks, his hunter coat a black stain against the crisp white snow. There was a thin layer of slush over the grey earth and he could make out the faint grooves of paw prints that broke the surface. The corners of his mouth turned downwards slightly, this was not a good sign.

Scout Harding walked up to him and crouched beside him, the wind tousled the fur lining of her cloak. "Any luck?"

"I think the wolves we saw earlier are keeping them away." He sighed; the destruction of Haven meant a large chunk of their supplies were gone and although Josephine was able to reach out and ask for food from some Fereldan villages, they would not arrive for at least another two days and they were still scarce. Hunting a few deer or goats would help but unfortunately both appeared to be scarce this high up in the mountains. 

"Well at least we have the birds that Sera shot." She said comfortingly, it may not be much but their group was not the only party out hunting and grouse was always a good treat as far as Harding was concerned. "You know, Inquisitor, you didn't have to join us for this. I'm sure you've got more important things to do than get food."

He chuckled, his voice was deep and rich, with the soft curled tones of a Dalish accent, "Precisely. I was going to go mad if I had another meeting today."

Harding wrinkled her nose and shook her head, disapprovingly somewhat, "That's...not very responsible."

"My advisors can survive without me for a couple of hours. They are the best after all." He said nonchalantly. He stood up and pulled down his cowl, ruffling his short dark hair. Cylas had a strong jaw and dark skin; on some occasions he had been told he would have been handsome... if not for the vallasin on his face. That always amused more than offended him; as if that ever stopped people from being at least a little bit curious about him. His eyes were the most striking feature: yellow-green; the same colour as the breach, as vivid and wicked looking as the mark on his hand. Lately he had grown to be increasingly annoyed by them; green eyes that glowed in the dark only provided yet another reason for the Andrastians to believe he was chosen.

Together with Harding, they walked back to where the rest of their group was waiting. Iron Bull, Dorian and two of Harding's men had been waiting by the horses for their return while Sera went to retrieve the bird she shot down. Everyone seemed relaxed, idly chatting with each other while one of the scouts roamed east and took notes. Iron Bull remained shirtless, unmoved by the cold while Dorian had whined and complained the entire trip down, although they took it as a good sign if Dorian was able to keep talking. Currently they could hear the mage chatting in the general direction of some foliage,

"Maybe someone should've waited for the thing to land before she shot it."

"Shut it!" Came a muffled response from the bush followed by more rustling sounds.

As Cylas and Harding approached, the mage lifted his head and smiled, raising his brows and waiting for an answer. When Cylas shook his head he sighed and feigned annoyance. Cylas looked over at them fondly, "Besides, I think everyone needs a break after Haven. If my advisors truly needed me Leliana would have found me ages ago."

Harding giggled, knowing how true that statement was. Meanwhile Sera emerged from the bush, with sticks in her hair and a huge grin on her face; in her hand she held up a dead grouse with an arrow through its body. Dorian clapped slowly as she strutted back, cradling the body above her head like a prize. Iron Bull watched her approach him, looking amused and impressed.

"What is the plural for grouse? Grouses? Grice?"

"Who cares? Them just birds, Bull. Don't have to be so complicated." She retorted as she stuffed the body into his horse's saddlebag, her face filled with glee.

Dorian smirked and looked at Cylas, "That's two birds for the Orlesian elf and zero deer for the Dalish hunter."

The elf shook his head as he walked up to his horse, with one swift motion he pulled himself up onto the large black courser. It's different riding a horse; they were less temperamental than harts and more willing to listen to their riders. He nudged his horse into a trot next to Dorian, "That's not fair, Dorian. Why am I the one who has to hunt for deer?"

"What? You _did_ promise us a nice venison dinner, Inquisitor."

"I didn't promise that: I promised meat. It was you and Sera who kept talking about deer during the entire trip."

A brisk laugh, "I did, didn't I? Well you couldn't provide us with either. I suppose we can never trust your promises now."

"I promised a closed breach too and I delivered did I not?"

A smile formed on Dorian's handsome face, his eyes softened as they looked at each other, "That you did." He lowered his voice, enough so that no one else could hear besides Cylas, "I've heard about your judgement today, I wanted to thank you for what you did with Alexius. You are a good man."

Cylas lowered his eyes, "I made a promise to Felix and it just so happened that Alexius had valuable knowledge. I wouldn't say I was a pious man because of it."

"My, aren't you modest." He said dryly, "Still, thank you. It means a lot to me... And Felix."

There was something melancholy about his expression and the way his shoulders sagged that made him want to ask what was wrong. Slowly he reached out his hand,

"Dorian I-

"What are you two going on about?"

From the side of Dorian’s horse, the small blonde elven girl looking at them with a mischievous smirk on her face. Curses. Immediately they both moved away from each other, Cylas turned his attention to a particularly gnarled tree while Dorian offered her a hand and pulled her up onto his horse, allowing her to sit comfortably in front of him. Unlike the others, Sera had never ridden a horse before she came into the Inquisition. It had taken a lot of convincing and reassurance from Blackwall to even get her near the animals when they went on their first mounted patrol. Now she was quite happy to go - given the right company.

"We were talking about how you should stop firing arrows without warning me. I nearly fell off the horse last time."

"Pffthth! Scaredy-pants."

Cylas laughed, "That he is." he patted the rump of his horse and looked at the elven girl, "You know, it would be more practical if you rode with me. Two talented rogues like ourselves, we would be unstoppable together."

"No thanks! Riding with you hurts my arse."

From afar, Harding snorted as she joined her scout on his steed. "I'll say; you go pretty fast on that charger. It's kind of. Scary."

"I'm hurt; I've only just been named Inqusitior and my own party finally abandons me!"

"Hey Boss, if you're so lonely you should ride with me."

"Tempting... But I don't think either of us is going to let the other do all the steering."  
There was a wicked grin on his face as he winked at the qunari, causing Iron Bull to let out a hearty laugh.

As if to prove them right, Cylas urged his horse up into a canter, pulling ahead of the group to gallop through the slope. After his wounds healed, it was good to be able to ride again; he relished the rush of the wind through his hair as his horse galloped unrestrained. Perhaps it was part of his Dalish blood but he enjoyed the sense of freedom it gave him. Not that he didn't enjoy being part of the Inquisition of course, he thought as he looked up at Skyhold; its stone walls stood imposing and protective amongst the mountains. After being confined to his clan for so long, the Inquisition finally made him feel like he was doing _something_ important.

_'An elf will stand for us all.'_

He still remembered the echoes of their cheers and the weight of the sword in his hands. He knew the depth of his words when he said it. He looked back at his friends; now he wondered whether he was the right elf to stand for Thedas. 

He tugged at the reins, easing his horse down to a trot while he waited for the rest of the group to catch up. But there was something wrong when he saw Harding was standing up on the horse, looking more concerned than happy.

"Inquisitor!" She shouted, "Up ahead!"

Cylas turned his head and tensed up at what he saw; there was a pack of wolves not too far in the distance and they were slowly approaching them. Immediately he leapt down from his horse and pulled out his daggers as he ran, eager to slice at the creatures before they could sense him. Their attentions, however, were on a different target. Not too far ahead was a soldier in full armour hacking at one of the wolves with a sword and cursing. He looked exhausted; blood streamed from a gash on his forehead and the wolves attempted to bite and claw at any gaps in his armour. Another wolf approached him from his side, Cylas immediately flung one of his knives into its eye, earning him a shrill scream as it collapsed. He rolled over to pick it up again and vut down another wolf in front of him. From the corner of his perfipherel vision, he could see a volley of arrows, most likely from Harding and Sera, and he could hear Iron Bull's enthusiastic roar.

"Everyone, move!"

A large fireball exploded in the midst of the pack, scattering the wolves and wounding a few of them. Cylas turned around, just in time to catch Dorian with a pleased grin on his face, his hands crackling with mana.

The fireball however seemed to put off the rest of the wolves as there remaining members immediately retreated, no longer interested in their prey now that magic was involved.  
"Thank you for saving my life."

Next to him the stranger looked like he was struggling to stay on his feet. Blood was streaming from his leg and he leaned heavily on his sword. His golden hair was a mess and his violet armour As soon as their eyes met, the man paused. Cylas recognised that familiar look in his eyes; the way his eyebrows raised as he noticed the vallasin on his face and the pointed tips of his ears. Lovely.

Just then Dorian's voice cut through the pause between them, "Inquisitor are you alright?"  
"Inquisitor?" The man's eyes widened, " _You're_ from the Inquisition?"

"I am. So are they." He gestured with his thumb.

"Hey, Boss. I think he's one of Celene's guys."

The man looked surprised and immediately turned to look at Bull, "How did you know?"

"Ben-Hasserath." Cylas said almost apologetically, ignoring the smug look on Iron Bull's face, "You can't keep anything from them even if you tried."

The thought obviously made him uncomfortable. "I see." He attempted to straighten his back and bowed lowly in front of Cylas, "My name is Michel de Chevin."

"De Chevin? You are Empress Celene's champion?"

"I am her champion no longer." He corrected, "I was travelling through the Frostbacks when those wolves attacked. I am ashamed to say they did not catch me at my best. I've been fighting off demons not too long ago."

Cylas furrowed his brows, "demons?"

"At the foot of the mountain; there had been demons coming out of a rift."

The Inquisior mentally cursed to himself, he couldn't believe he missed a rift so close to SKyhold. "I'll head down there myself later." He turned his attention back to Michel, "But first we should get you to a healer."

The chevalier looked relieved, "I thank you again, ser..."

"Cylas Lavellan, leader of the Inquisition. Now..." His eyes glanced over the charred corpses around them, "How does everyone feel about wolf tonight?"

Everyone groaned, no one was happy with that.

* * *

 

The moment they returned to Skyhold, a group of people immediately approached the group with questions for the Inquisition. Not long afterwards, Michel was whisked away to a healer by an Antivan woman whom he later gather to be the ambassador of the Inquisition.  
Skyhold was a remarkable piece of architecture, he had never expected to find a fortress like it in the Frostbacks. By the looks of it there was still building works going on the structure. Up until now he had only heard of the Inquisition during his travels, it was not until he was here at the heart of their organisation that he realised the amount of power they commanded. He wondered what Empress Celene thought of them, whether she thought that they were Thedas's last salvation against the breach... or another threat to Orlais.

Although it seemed that they had more important concerns right now, he thought as he eyed the number of soldiers lying in makeshift stretchers as they walked past.

The healer was a middle-aged chantry sister from Denerim who tutted and tsked at the sight of his old scars and did not bat an eye as she told the Orlesian chevalier to strip out of his armour. Despite her vice-like grip and her scowls she was efficient at what she did, rubbing poultices on his wounds and bandaging him up neater and faster than even some of the healers in the Academy. Meanwhile the ambassador, Josephine, was waiting for him, explaining their situation and answering any questions he had about the Inquisition. It appeared that they have just recovered from a battle with the demon behind the tears in the sky and had won at the cost of their previous base. They had taken losses but were slowly recovering and planning their next moves although Josephine declined from giving him the details. Either because they did not have a plan or that they did not trust anyone to learn of them just yet. As she talked, he noticed the way she looked at him, as if wanting something from him but could not say. When he asked if there was something else on her mind, she denied it. Before he could ask anything else, the healer was done and Josephine told him that the Inquisitor Lavellan was waiting for him in the war room.

To think, everyone here was letting a _knife-ear_ become their leader. He wondered what type of leader this Lavellan was.

Josephine led him to the war room, amidst the scaffolding and the rubble, the room was in better shape than the rest of the fortress. In the room, Inquisitor Lavellan stood over a table studying the large map stretched across it. Out of his coat, he was small but no less daunting that when he was on the field. He carried himself with every manner of a true leader.  As the door opened, Cylas glanced up and smiled, "Michel de Chevin, how are you feeling?"

"Much better; thank you, ser. Your people have been most accomodating."

"Good." The Inquisitor straightened up and beckoned him over, gesturing him to take a seat on a stool that Josephine had brought in, "So, what _was_ Celene's former champion doing in the Frostbacks? Are you that unpopular in Orlais?"

"I was hunting a demon."

"You might have to be more specific, there's been many of those lately."

"He is a desire demon whose name is Imshael, and he is free in this world because I made a mistake. I made a bargain with him and now he is out killing people because of me." He clenched his jaw, frowning as he recalled the bodies he had encountered, cruelly twisted and slaughtered by the demon, "Originally I thought he had something to do with the rifts across Thedas or that he would be drawn to this chaos, either ways I thought the Frostbacks would be a sound place to look for him. But my efforts have been in vain. I was hoping your Inquisition may have some clue to his whereabouts."

The Inquisitor had been listening intently, clearly thinking about his words. Regretfully he shook his head. "I'm afraid we have not encountered such a demon in our travels."

"Then my search continues." There was a note of disappointment in his voice; he had been hopeful for a sign, "I will resume my travels tomorrow, but I thank you for your hospitality."

"You don't have to go. We could always use a strong arm like yours."

He shook his head, it was not that he did not see the Inquisition as a worthy cause but he could not allow himself to join, "I apologise but I have vowed to kill this demon and I will not deviate from my vows until I am certain he no longer walks this earth."

"Is that so?" The elf walked around the table, tracing his fingers over the map of Orlais and picking up a pawn from the table, Michel noticed that it was a coin with a lion's head on it,

"What if I told you that Empress Celene is in grave danger?"

At those words, Michel froze. Calmly, Cylas rolled the coin over his back of his fingers and continued to talk. "Before the attack on Haven we were able to discover Corypheus's plans; to raise a demon army and kill the Empress of Orlais." He looked at the chevalier, his expression was solemn. "If you will help us stop this I will provide you with as many resources as you need to find Imshael."

Michel was silent, his head swimming with concern and anger. He clenched his hands and slowly told the elf, "I am no longer welcome in the Orlesian court."

"But you still love your Empress do you not?"

He furrowed his brows and pressed his lips into a hard line, it was true. No matter what, he lived to serve Orlais and his Empress. No matter what had happened in the Eluvians, he is still loyal to Celene. He could not let her die.

But he is no longer her champion nor is he a chevalier any more. What could he possibly do for her?

"Your Worship, if you will pardon me but I do not understand why you are so insistent about this. I am but one man, a soldier with no name or title. What can I give you that no other man in this Inquisition has already offered you?" He looked at Cylas, _what do you want from me?_

Cylas appeared to have understood his thoughts. He placed the coin back down on the war table and clasped his hands together, "The people of Thedas said I single-handedly sealed the breach. But they were wrong; if it wasn't for the mages I would not have had the power needed to even survive the damn thing. When I fired the trebuchet it was my friends who kept the templars off of me and it was Chancellor Roderick not I who was able to bring everyone out of Haven. They believe I was sent by their god yet no one had realised their part in this battle." He unclasped his hands and turned to him, "Whether they believe it's my own doing or not I _need_ good men and women in this Inquisition if I am to stand a chance against Corypheus. I need people like you to be with me at the right time, Michel de Chevin." He extended his hand out to him, "Fight with us. Help us save Orlais."

Silently, Michel looked at the hand offered towards him. "You are persistent."

There was a grin on the elf's face, unapologetic and unashamed, "You will find that I always get what I want."

There was another silence between them. Sighing noisily, Michel reached out and shook his hand firmly.

"Very well, Inquisitor. I agree to your offer."

 


End file.
